


Never Returned to the World They Knew

by DoctorTrekLock



Series: Resolution19 [16]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crash course in English history, Gen, Historical, Not technically MCD?, Reincarnation, merlin is waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 19:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18414353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: It is 1099, and Merlin's lifeblood is soaking the dusty ground beneath him.He laughs joyfully, the sound loud and broken in the quiet, over in an instant. It is replaced by ragged breaths, the dark stain beneath him ever growing. The sounds of battle rage on, but he is laying in a pocket of calm, his heartbeat growing fainter by the second."For someone who is dying," the man next to him gasps out, "you seem kind of happy."





	Never Returned to the World They Knew

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "For someone whose dying, you seem kind of happy."  
> Source: <http://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/120266583502/angst-starter-masterlist>  
> Title: "Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me Too" by Shel Silverstein
> 
> Originally posted April 9, 2019 on [Tumblr](http://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/184074731177/never-returned-to-the-world-they-knew-april-9)

It is 1099, and Merlin's lifeblood is soaking the dusty ground beneath him.

He laughs joyfully, the sound loud and broken in the quiet, over in an instant. It is replaced by ragged breaths, the dark stain beneath him ever growing. The sounds of battle rage on, but he is laying in a pocket of calm, his heartbeat growing fainter by the second.

"For someone who is dying," the man next to him gasps out, "you seem kind of happy."

His name is Richard, and he will never walk again, his leg broken in two places, his ankle shattered. He will likely live, though, and be able to return home to his wife and small daughter. He is here for the money and the opportunities. Richard has no desire for a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.

"I am happy," Merlin manages around the wounds carving bright streaks of pain through his abdomen. "He's not here yet. I get another chance." Underneath is the more pervasive threat, the dull burn that gradually fades as his body becomes more and more numb.

Richard seems to take that as a sign that Merlin has fallen into a hazy delirium from blood loss. He sits propped up on a rock next to Merlin and begins to recite a prayer, the Latin obviously memorized by rote. A buzzing fills his ears, Richard's words vanishing beneath the hum of his brain shutting down.

Richard doesn't understand that Merlin meant every word he said. Arthur isn't here yet. Merlin has been waiting for him, has been rushing headlong into any trouble England can find herself in, but he hasn't found Arthur yet. And if Arthur hasn't returned, then Merlin isn't done. He will be back again, his reincarnation both a blessing and a curse by turns. He doesn't know why he's still here, just knows that the Once and Future King is still slumbering, and the Old Magic in his veins and his lungs and his skin won't let him go without Arthur.

And so Merlin will wait.

The last thing he sees is sky.

\--

It is 1471, and England is tearing herself apart.

Apparently not content with a century of bloodshed in France, Merlin's countrymen - Arthur's subjects - have turned their violence against themselves. Battle lines are quickly and decisively drawn, as mortal men kill for their chance at the throne.

Merlin wants to scream. _It's Arthur's throne,_ he yells in the silence of his own head. _It belongs to Arthur and nothing you can do will make you worthy of it._

Time and time again he finds himself by a lake in Wales. Some days he paces wildly, his hands making sharp, angry gestures as he regales his king with the latest in a long line of reasons that prat needs to come back and _fix things_. Some days he stands still and watches the water quietly before leaving without a word.

And some days he sits at the edge with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around himself as the water gently laps at his toes. And he speaks softly and tells Arthur about all the things he's missed and all the things Merlin wishes he could see. And all the ways that the world is bigger than it was before, and Merlin so much smaller, and how much he misses Arthur.

And king after king is murdered and deposed and Merlin can't stop himself from shaking. Because if this isn't enough for Arthur to come back, if this isn't the hour that England needs him most, then _how much worse is it going to get?_

\--

It is 1652, and the monarchy has fallen.

Parliament, the _people_ , have decided that they are tired of kings and queens and have taken the country into their own bloody hands.

The king is dead, his son banished, and Merlin watches in horror as Arthur's throne is shrouded and sits empty.

He goes to the abbey in London once and finds the tomb of Edward the Confessor, whose death caused the invasion of William and his band of Frenchmen from Normandy. Merlin wonders if Edward knew what chaos his death would bring. If the Saxons who preceded him knew what Arthur's death had done to Camelot and his united Briton.

Merlin has been alive for about a millennium by this point (give or take a few years here and there), and he has seen the good, the bad, and the worse of England. He's been born a lord once or twice, has fought in wars and taken religious oaths and worked the land. Merlin was and always will be a child of the people.

The king had fought Parliament and had lost. Merlin, the boy from Ealdor, knows that Will would have been viciously gleeful about it. That his mother and Gwen would have welcomed the change, the chance to lead a kingdom without bowing to blood and birthright.

But Merlin, who had fought warlocks and dragons and knights to protect the Once and Future King of Camelot? Merlin knows that there are some people who were born to rule, and rule well. That Arthur, no matter his status or birthright, would always end as a leader of men. That people would always gravitate toward him, regardless of whether there was a crown on his head.

He leaves Westminster. Perhaps the throne itself isn't as necessary as he had always believed, but Arthur would always be Merlin's king.

\--

It is 1940, and the sky is falling.

Explosions have rocked London for nearly two months straight. Merlin has used his magic more in the last six weeks than he has in six centuries. He rescues children under teetering beams and keeps glass shards from flying when panes shatter against the ground. He keeps windows dark and streets empty at night when the _Luftwaffe_  soar overhead, dropping death in their wake.

He had forgotten what it was like, to feel the rush of energy flow through him, of _life_. It's as easy as breathing, and he uses it to keep the people of England safe - _his_  people, _Arthur's_  people.

Merlin keeps his eyes open and his ears attuned to the slightest rumor. He reads the newspapers everyday and every war bulletin he can get his hands on. There's no sign of Arthur.

It seems the entire world is at war. Merlin can't imagine a world worse than this one, and it appears other people agree. Arthur may have been gone from the world for centuries, but he never left the public imagination. It seems everyone, from Parliament members to homeless orphans, believes that now is the time for Arthur's return.

But there is no sign of Arthur.

In a way, Merlin is almost proud of that fact. Does he want to see Arthur again? Yes, _desperately_. He has missed his friend, and Arthur's return may be the only thing capable of halting Merlin's reincarnations. But if Arthur isn't here, that means England will survive this, that she will make it through the bombings and the terror. That Germany will not see her fall. And that is its own kind of comfort.

\--

It is today, and Merlin is still waiting.

He is 27 again, and he's sitting on the edge of a fountain in Trafalgar Square, drinking a cup of overpriced coffee and absentmindedly scrolling through the news on his phone.

Each year and each day, the tidings become grimmer and the predictions become more dire. At least, that's what the anchors would have you believe. Merlin lived (and died) through half a dozen waves of the Black Death and over thrice as many wars. He's been shot, stabbed, decapitated, drowned, drawn and quartered, and beaten to death. Rumor of government corruption abroad and economic collapse at home don't shake him the way they do his modern contemporaries.

Sometimes Merlin takes a moment to step back and think about everything that has _changed_  in the last millennium and a half. To marvel at the changes that have been wrought. He misses the magic that permeated everyday life and the smell of dirt roads after it rained. He's also a great fan of penicillin and indoor plumbing, though, so he's not that nostalgic for the 6th century. (Also the coffee.)

But even though he goes to school (because it's expected) and gets a job (because he still needs money, even if he does keep leaving it to himself), he is still only waiting for Arthur to emerge from a lake in Wales. And Merlin wonders how his friend, his king, is going to be able to stand up to guns and missiles and nuclear weapons when he was always most comfortable with a blade in his hands and a horse between his thighs as he led knights into battle.

Merlin comforts himself the same way he has for the last five centuries. The world is changing, but Arthur can change with it. He doesn't need to be king (though thank gods the monarchy had been restored). Arthur was, and will be, a leader of men. He is just and true and _righteous_ , and he will cut down England's enemies with whatever weapons he has to hand, whether swords or soldiers or words.

Arthur Pendragon is the Once and Future King, and he will be glorious upon his return, be it as a soldier, a lawyer, a journalist, a king, or a school boy who hasn't yet learned that money can't buy friends.

Merlin checks the time, then pockets his phone and tosses his empty coffee cup, heading towards the nearest Tube stop.

Arthur will be back one day, and Merlin will be waiting for him when he does.


End file.
